


Sounds of Laughter, Shades of Earth

by skund



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-27
Updated: 2010-06-27
Packaged: 2017-10-10 07:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/97071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skund/pseuds/skund
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark awakens and finds Bruce is gone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sounds of Laughter, Shades of Earth

Clark awoke with the sun, as he always did. The cool Arctic dawn filtered through the crystals, causing light to dance around the room. Clark opened his eyes slowly, feeling the sunlight seep through his golden body. He rolled over and reached out to the space beside him but only empty air greeted him. He frowned slightly, raising his head to survey the room. Bruce must already be up. He dropped his head back down with a contented sigh, but the cold nothing beside him made something in his brain itch. With a groan and a mental promise to return soon Clark rolled out of bed and padded barefoot towards the door. The cold of the Fortress never bothered him but out of habit he grabbed a short cotton dressing gown which had been dumped unceremoniously on a chair. Ma Kent was very adamant about some things.

He walked slowly through the living areas listening for signs of his lover. The lounge room was looking well loved; a half finished chess game and glasses of wine sat the corner, overstuffed chairs with books folded haphazardly over the arms. Clark absently grabbed a handmade quilt off the back of a chair and folded it neatly. He raised it to his face and inhaled. Bruce always looked at him funny when he said Ma's quilts still smelt of the farm - of old hay and baking scones and long, endless sunsets - no matter how long they'd been up at the North Pole. He smiled fondly and carefully placed the quilt over the chair back. He hadn't talked to his mother in a while, he should give her a call sometime.

The kitchen was empty too. Bruce had left a mug out on the countertop but it was cold and empty when Clark picked it up. He placed it carefully back in the same spot. The coffee machine was hulking in the corner, minus its usual steam and fuss. Clark turned it on but when he went to grab some fresh ground coffee from the cupboard it was empty. He rolled his eyes – Alfred would be ashamed, some host he is. He shrugged and grabbed a box of kibble from the far cupboard and went to fill Krypto's bowl. But it was already full. Still full. Damn fool of a dog, he'd have to go hunting for him next. With a shake of his head Clark replaced the food and wandered on.

The main hub of the Fortress was resplendent in the early morning sun, the slanted light bathing the room in a riot of colour. Clark smiled as he walked through the heavy beams, feeling power surge under his skin. But for some reason the warmth didn't seep as deep as it should; he was still cold inside. He needed... he needed to find Bruce. Yes, he needed to find those sparkling blue eyes and warm arms.

He poked halfheartedly at the computer as he passed it but it had nothing to reveal. There were no message from the Watchtower or other Leaguers, nothing from the news networks had been caught in the filters Bruce had installed. Nothing. Clark left the device without a second thought, still searching. He quickly examined the remaining rooms – storage lockers and labs and medical bays, none of which contained his Bruce. The frown on his face deepened. Surely he hadn't... Bruce wouldn't have gone outside. But there was nowhere else to look. Clark jogged to the external door of the Fortress and slipped outside, mentally bracing himself against the icy winds even if his body didn't feel their bite. But there were none. Nothing. No ice, no snow. Just barren grey rock as far as the eye could see. Right at the horizon he could see a sharp drop, the land sloping away to form a basin where the ocean should lie, restlessly worrying the shore. But no longer. Clark opened his ears, using his powers to cover the world. He could hear the deep, mournful groan of the Earth moving, the skitter of pebbles across a rocky plain, the roar of the stratospheric circumpolar winds. And nothing else. Nothing at all.

And then he remembered. The fight he could never win. The battle beyond his power. He'd saved the world from alien invasions and inter-dimensional attacks, magic and madmen and monsters. But he could never save the world from itself, from the people who were voted into power, who smiled into news cameras and held press releases and promised the world to their people. And who, when the time came, gave the orders to press the buttons to launch. To start the beginning of the end.

The sound of his tears striking the barren ground were like thunderclaps. He remembered now, as he did every morning, after waking in dawn's light whole and pure and strong. He stood for hours, watching the sun roll low across the sky in what passed for a spring day at this latitude. Then when the stillness and silence started to pound against his skull, to rattle like madness down his spine, he turned and returned to the Fortress to look for Bruce.

He didn't have anything else to do.


End file.
